


It's a Twister!

by kedawen



Series: No Place Like Home [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Post Season 8, Technobabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedawen/pseuds/kedawen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We are in Kansas, after all!” Charlie trills. The grin slides off her face as she finds herself on the wrong side of three glares. “We shouldn’t be in any danger…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Twister!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to madefrommemories for being the most wonderful beta (and friend) I could ask for.

Dean is awakened from a deep sleep by a god-awful screeching noise. The first thought that comes to mind is that Cas must have set the alarm for asscrack-of-dawn again so he can go running and _why can't he just sleep ‘til noon like normal people?!_

"Cas, turn that off, man," he grouses to the sleeping figure cuddled up next to him.

All he gets in response is a sleepy grumble. Dean rubs his hand over his face and his brain starts functioning. That doesn't sound like any alarm clock he's ever heard and it’s fucking loud. A peek at his phone tells him the time is just after 1 in the morning. He swings his feet over the side of the bed and pats Cas on the shoulder.

"C'mon bud, I think there's something going on."

More grumbling ensues, but eventually the lump under the blankets moves and Cas sits up, looking disheveled in an old t-shirt and loose-fitting sleep pants. His hair is sticking up in all directions, like always.

"What is that horrible sound?!"

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” Dean deadpans, then laughs when Cas glares at him. He starts toward the door and gestures for Cas to follow. "That's what we're going to find out."

They swing by Sam's room and wake him up. "What is it with people who can sleep through anything?" Dean mutters.

A quick peek into Kevin's room reveals it’s empty; same with the room Charlie had claimed while she stays with them.

They find Kevin and Charlie in the war room, hunched over her laptop.

"Getting there.... I know that subroutine is here somewhere," Charlie is whispering as she scrolls through lines of code.

Sam shuffles in a moment later, hands over his ears and looking pissed.

And then - silence. There's a collective sigh and Charlie looks up, grinning.

"About time," Dean teases.

"Yeah, well, it's not like there's thousands upon thousands of lines of code in here," she retorts, patting one of the consoles. An orange light is still flashing angrily at one end. Dean smirks at her.

“Wasn’t there a way to switch off the alarm manually?” Sam pipes up in a gravelly voice. He clears his throat. “Why did you have to go into the code?”

“Technically, the alarm is still on. We just couldn’t think with all the noise.” Kevin moves to one of the new touchscreen monitors mounted to the wall, rearranging windows on the screen. A map of the surrounding area is visible, a red square overlaying it with the bunker indicated in the dead center. Another window shows a set of scans from the digital archive that Kevin and Charlie are building, displaying what looks like a schematic of the bunker.

“And?” Dean prompts, impatiently.

“Sorry.” Kevin refocuses on the people in the room. “As far as we can tell, there’s a storm within 20 miles of here. A tornado.”

“We are in Kansas, after all!” Charlie trills. The grin slides off her face as she finds herself on the wrong side of three glares. “We shouldn’t be in any danger…” she says, attempting to placate the group.

“Shouldn’t be, or won’t be?” Dean demands.

“As long as the tornado doesn't travel right over the top of us and throw something huge at the windows, we’ll be fine. The windows are reinforced so they won’t break from hail or small debris, and there are lightning rods on the roof,” Kevin steps in to reassure them. “According to the radar, it looks like the worst of it should pass at least 10 miles to the west of us.”

Dean nods and looks around, noticing how quiet Cas has been. He’s sitting in a chair, staring up at one of the windows, eyes wide.

“Is this the schematic for the panic room?” Sam asks as he looks at the screen on the wall.

“Yes. It’s the safest room in the bunker, naturally. That’s the best place to be in the event a railroad car smashes through one of the windows,” Kevin explains.

Cas makes a distressed sound as a bolt of lightning illuminates the windows following Kevin’s statement. The lights in the bunker dim for a split second.

“All right, listen up.” Dean claps his hands, coming to a decision. “We’re going to go hang out in the panic room until the all-clear. That’s just what we do in Kansas: the siren goes off and we head for the storm shelter. Kevin, you have a clear idea of where that room is?”

Kevin nods and picks up a tablet off the table. “I’ll load the map on here.”

“Good. Let’s get some supplies together. Sam, grab a first-aid kit and a deck of cards - whatever else you might want to stay entertained. Charlie and Kev, snag a couple blankets and pillows. Cas and I will get some snacks. Meet up here in 10 and we’ll head down.”

Relieved to have a clear plan, the group scatters. Dean pads over to where Cas is sitting and kneels next to him.

“Hey,” he says quietly, putting a hand over Cas’ where they twist in his lap. “Look at me.”

Cas swivels his head to meet Dean’s gaze, lips pressed in a thin line. He jumps and blinks slowly as another bolt of lightning flashes across the sky.

“We’ll be all right, Cas. These kinds of storms happen all the time and this shelter is definitely better than most.”

Cas unfolds his hands and threads his fingers through Dean’s. His hand is shaking, and Dean squeezes tight. “My heart is racing… I can’t seem to catch my breath…” Cas gasps. Mother Nature is so much less glorious, and so much more _terrifying_ , this side of heaven. There's nothing like a violent storm to force a former angel to face his mortality.

“That’s what happens when you get all the adrenaline and there’s no monster to fight. It doesn’t help that it’s the middle of the night, either.”

“What difference does that make?” Cas looks dubious.

“Trust me, everything's worse in the middle of the night.”

“I do trust you, Dean.”

“I know, Cas. Let’s go.”

Dean hooks his free hand under Cas’ elbow and pulls him to his feet. His other hand stays tightly clasped with Cas’.

“We’ll just get some granola bars, chex mix and some water, I think.” Dean rambles as he leads Cas out of the war room toward the kitchen. “I wish I had time to make popcorn, been wanting to try that new kind we got…”

They each fill up a cloth bag and head back. By the time everyone returns, the sounds of the storm have become audible.

“It sounds like a freight train,” Kevin observes breathlessly. The lightning flashes every few minutes, bright blue and blinding, and what sounds like hail strikes the windows. The lights dim occasionally when one of the rods on the roof is struck.

“We gotta go, kids. Lead the way, Kev.”

Through winding halls and spiral staircases, they march single-file into the belly of the bunker. Finally, Kevin comes to a stop outside a round door with a circular handle.

“Wouldn’t want to hold back on the cliches, I guess,” Dean mutters, setting down his bag and leaning into the handle. After straining for a minute with no luck, he looks at Sam. “Come on, dude, give me a hand here.”

Sam huffs, but hands off his own burden to Kevin and grasps the handle as well. With a groan, the door unlatches and swings out. They all peer inside, not sure what to expect. The room is round, with a low bench covering half the circumference. A set of shelves sits near the door, and holds a dusty first aid kit, some blankets and flashlights. Dean smacks his forehead.

“Flashlights! Damn it, I knew I forgot something.” There’s no way the batteries in those are still good.

“Uh, Dean?” Charlie calls from the back of the group. She waves her phone at him when he turns to look. “We’ve got flashlight apps. Mine’s fully charged. Kev?”

He fishes his phone from his pocket and peers at the screen. “Yup, I’m good. And even if the power station goes out, we’ve got a backup generator. I’ll re-route it to this room just in case and make it so the lights don’t keep flickering.”

“Sounds good. First order of business in the morning is to restock this place. It could really come in handy.” Dean moves to the shelf, sorting through the items and the rest of the group files in. ”Spread out, get cozy.”

Kevin and Charlie dump the blankets in their arms on the floor and Charlie takes a second to check on Cas. She places her hands on his shoulders, and he leans in to touch his forehead to hers. When she arrived a month ago, Cas had been hesitant to trust her, but since then they’d grown closer as it became obvious how much she cares about both Dean and Sam.

Satisfied that Cas is all right, she joins Kevin on the bench, leaning over the tablet screen and Dean is sure they’ll stay occupied there most of the night. Sam folds himself onto the floor and spreads a blanket over himself. He’ll be asleep in minutes.

Dean returns to Cas’ side, and Cas grips his hand tightly again. “I’m feeling better now, Dean.”

Dean laughs. “Good to hear. Let’s grab a deck of cards and play Crazy Eights, what do you say? Remember the rules for that one?”

“Yes, I remember,” Cas states, snagging a blanket for himself on the way through. They settle on the floor against the wall, blanket wrapped around Cas’ shoulders. He loves to snuggle under blankets even though it’s the tail end of summer; he’s told Dean that he’s never quite been warm since he fell.

Dean shuffles the deck and deals. Charlie and Kevin wander over after a while and they switch to teaching Cas how to play Bullshit. Dean finally gives up, throwing his hands into the air dramatically; the former angel can't seem to grasp the concept of _bluffing_.

Cas’ eyes are drooping, so Dean snuggles him into the blanket and tucks him against his side. Kevin and Charlie fall asleep back to back in the middle of the room and Dean is left alone with his thoughts, watching fondly over his family.

He wakes with a start, hearing a feeble pinging noise coming from the bench across the room. His ass is asleep and Cas is drooling on his shoulder.

“Charlie,” he whispers, since she’s the closest geek. A little louder: “Charlie!”

She bolts awake, knocking Kevin over onto his side. “Wass goin’ on?” Kevin slurs.

Charlie twists towards the bench. “That’s the all-clear. We rigged it up so it would let us know.”

“Awesome,” says Dean. He tosses an empty water bottle at Sam, hitting him right on the ear.

“Uggghhh,” says Sam.

“Time to wake up! Let’s go make sure the bunker didn’t get carried away to Oz.”

“It didn’t,” Kevin assures them, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “We set up an alarm that would go off if the bunker sustained any damage.”

“What is ‘Oz’?” Cas asks in a voice thick with sleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean turns to Cas. “Maybe we’ll watch that movie later.”

A collective groan echoes through the room.

“Too soon?” Dean asks. Sam throws the water bottle back at him, missing by a mile.


End file.
